The Story of Us
by ephemeral beauty
Summary: After the happenings of Harry's fourth year, Dumbledore brings to help much more powerful player. Who is it? Will they be the blessing everyone waited for or the nightmare nobody could have predicted?
1. Chapter 1

**27****th** **of June 1995**

It was beautiful warm early summer day, just like any other summer day in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could be. The halls were calm and quiet – after all the term just ended and students departed to spend some time with their families and recuperate after a gruelling year full of exhausting studying.

However, one office, in particular the headmaster's, was filled with raised voices of an ongoing argument.

"You did what?"

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I understand, but was it the only option?"

"You can't trust…"

"Let's all calm down," started weary headmaster of the prestigious school, but his voice was drowned in the storm of complaints. Curiously enough, the portraits were suspiciously silent, as they tried to appear not listening to the interesting conversation of the living occupants of the room. Even the majestic phoenix Fawkes was quiet.

"But still, I'm sure that…."

"No, no, no. It can't be allowed!"

"Really, is this one of your jokes? Because I assure you, it's not…"

"I can't comprehend the workings of your senile…"

"That's enough!" The headmaster's voice did not leave the room for slightest disobedience.

After regaining the room's attention, headmaster calmly set back into his armchair, and looked at his shocked professors and trusted associates.

"Thank you. Now, that we have all calmed down, "he started with the benign smile and understatement of the century, "I'd like to explain some of the reasons, that convinced me that this course of actions is the right one, even though, I can assure you, it was not an easy decision to make."

This on itself was strange occurrence. Dumbledore has never before tried to explain himself. Normally he would just smile and change the topic of the conversation, subtly of course.

"Few weeks ago, young Mr. Potter witnessed rising of Voldemort," only few of the gathered managed to hide their winces at hearing the name of the darkest Dark Lord pronounced aloud, "The situation may not reflect it as of yet, but Voldemort," winces again, „will not stay in hiding long, and his actions will stop being covert before we will realize it. As Mr. Potter appears to be the main target in this war, he must know how to protect himself."

At this pronouncement many acceded his point, but few faces still shown their hesitation. In their minds Harry was still only a child, an orphan, so he must be protected by others. Dumbledore continued without taking heed of these few, they would be convinced in time, or they will just have to get used to the situation.

"The instructor I have selected may be unconventional, and many of you may have your doubts about their credibility, or even their loyalty. But I assure you, they are the best for this kind of situation. Any questions, and please try to talk one at the time?"

Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall started first. "Albus, I understand. You want to protect him. And Miss Potter was exceptional student. I always loved her. But will she know how to teach someone in such a situation?" But right after voicing these doubts, she realized they were pointless. As she said she loved Miss Potter, she was her favourite student – very intelligent, smart, intuitive about magic, powerful and oh so talented. So she just smiled, nodded her head and waved her previous concerns away.

"But Albus, he is just a child. He must be protected by others; we can't expect him to protect himself. Oh, I know who you are talking about, and I have serious doubts she could ever be loyal to anyone. Just look what she has done to my poor Bill. But that could be expected, after all, she comes from that family, and not even such light family as Potters could ever erase the stain of that darkness." This of course, came from the Weasley matriarch, who assumed she had any say in Harry's life.

"Are you absolutely certain she will not betray us?" The cautious question came from resident werewolf, Remus Lupin.

"Albus, you can't be serious. There are many of us in Order that can teach the brat. Why bring outsider with dubious loyalties?" voiced his thoughts Potions Professor Severus Snape. Of course, he would be concerned with loyalties, he was a spy after all and any leak could cost him his life.

"If I may, headmaster, I would like to inquire what could convince such a prominent figure in our world to train Mr. Potter. And also allow me to point out that she is not known for... delicateness that young Mr. Potter necessarily requires, what with his black and white outlook at the world in general." Notorious Lucius Malfoy did not let himself be left out of any conversation.

"I assure you, no information would be leaked away by Miss Potter, Severus. And to address your concerns, Lucius, I am certain that she is the right person to teach him the differences and nuances of each and every situation and the vast amounts of grey that are intrinsic part of our world, and the world in general."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I believe in her, isn't that enough?" and with that answer Snape, Remus and Lucius stayed quiet, after all it was Dumbledore's trust, which allowed them their continuous existence and place in society.

"When is she supposed to arrive?" It was the first time Alastor Moody participated in this conversation, strange occurrence – after all he was the most paranoid being alive, and he hadn't once questioned credibility of discussed Miss Potter.

"She should be here in a few minutes." And with that said occupants of the room found their favourite places in the room. Professor McGonagall straightened her back in the armchair in front of the desk, professor Snape stood with his back to the wall nearest to the door, Mr. Malfoy stood near the window, Remus Lupin set back on the sofa that faced the fireplace, Mrs. Weasley slumped in one of the armchairs near the aforementioned sofa and Alastor found place in the other armchair, relaxing for the first time in years, as he waited for the arrival of the newcomer.

Five minutes later there was a knock on door. A young woman, of twenty five years, stepped into the room. She did not seem surprised at the number of people inside, as she was well aware of the lengths Dumbledore would go to, to ensure her cooperation. She was of medium height, slim built, with long wavy dark brown hair, and doe like blue-gray eyes. When Lucius Malfoy saw her, he was entranced. He was not accustomed to be in this state. After all, he was in presence of full blooded veela and fay more than once and never has been his attention this preoccupied before.

She truly was the most captivating being ever. Her face was dominated by expressive eyes with thick black eyelashes, full red lips and high cheekbones. No painter could ever create more aristocratic likeness; she was ethereal, personification of everything that is beautiful. Veela would look like a normal girl, had she been standing next to her.

"Albus, when we talked, I had the impression this would be a private meeting instead of a public one." She said as a form of a greeting. And with this utterance, Lucius and Severus understood that no matter who they were, they could never reach this level of greatness. She was the ultimate Slytherin, with the perfect mix of sarcasm, condescension, arrogance and patronizing all wrapped up and shrouded in false surprise and amusement. Suddenly they realized they were out of their depth with her.

"Alexandra, you look beautiful. The years out of school have treated you well." Albus did not let her remark get to him, even though it shocked Mrs. Weasley to the core, that anyone would talk like that to the great Albus Dumbledore. But it was her way of conduct, until she got to know you, you were just not worthy of her attention, and she got to know you only if she seriously paid you at least five minutes of her day. It was a viscous circle with her.

"I still do not understand why you insisted that I come here today. I told you already that I do not want to take any part in your war. Professor McGonagall, how good to see you again. I trust you are in good health still?" With those words she dismissed presence of everybody else, and mainly Dumbledore.

"Yes, I am. And you, Miss Potter? I heard from many accounts of you throughout the years."

"All good, I hope," replied with a smile Alexandra.

"Only the best."

Dumbledore did not let himself be put out by her dismissive behaviour and rejoined the conversation, much to the amusement of all present, but Mrs. Weasley.

"I called you here, in hope to persuade you to rethink your stance on the state of war in our country and to beg you to reconsider undertaking the task of training Mr. Potter, your cousin, to help raise his chances of surviving this war." Everybody was confused by this statement, and had to go though it at least two more times to decipher it. That is everybody, but the two participants of the repartee.

"I understand your concerns, Albus. And do not worry; I am well aware that young Mr. Potter is the son of my disowned and unfortunately deceased uncle. But if you care to remember, Albus, it is your doing, which has me taking this stance. Uncle Mark wanted to take in Mr. Potter after the unfortunate happenings on that faithful night, but you refused him on the terms, that paragon of light cannot be raised in the family with questionable ties, and sent him instead to the muggle part of the family on his mother's side. Then why would you now put him in my care, after all, I _was_ raised by Uncle Mark."

As her speech progressed, it seemed as if all fight was slowly draining out of the prominent figure of the wizarding world. 'So many years, so many mistakes.' At the time, it seemed reasonable; after all her uncle, her mother's younger brother, was Marcus Montmorency, and Montmorency was family with strong ties to the dark magic or at the very least the darkest shade of grey. He thought only of the fallout that would occur if he decided to place The-boy-who-lived with them, but now, the situation was absolutely opposite. The moment he saw that timid, shy, small and painfully self-conscious boy, he realized what a grave mistake he made.

"It was right decision, Albus. Don't worry. And who do you think you are, you foolish girl, to talk to the headmaster like that. If he asks you to do something, you do it, and you do not refuse, it is simply not done!" Mrs. Weasley just couldn't stay quiet for long, no matter how hard she tried, and especially not if someone back-talked to Dumbledore.

"Molly, please," placated Albus, then he turned to Alexandra and picked up their conversation. "I understand, and each and every day I regret the decisions I made then, and had I had the chance I would have changed so many of them. But I cannot, no matter what so many may think I am not omniscient. Can you not forgive, and if not forgive, then at least overlook, a mistake made by an old man? I never wanted, never envisioned, this outcome. I am here before you, asking, pleading, and begging for your help."

"And what do you want, Albus? You know, who I am. I can and will change neither my opinions, nor my understanding of magic. What would you have me teaching him? How to cast _Petrificus Totalus_ or conjure a fluffy bunny? How to hug your enemy until he faints? Or confuse him with long speeches? Bore him to tears till he concedes? We both know I cannot do that." At this Alastor tried to hide his smirk. Tried being the operative word for he was noticed by Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Lupin and professors McGonagall and Snape, who were in similar predicament of faintly suppressed amusement. But anger of Mrs. Weasley only grew.

"I never would have contacted you if I required you to change. Had I wanted fluffy bunnies and long confusing speeches, as you put it, I could teach him that myself." With a great relief smiled Albus. He knew that, she would help, and was being difficult just on the principle. But he must admit, for her help, not only with Harry, but with the war also, he was ready to beg on his knees and take any penance she would give.

"Where is he?" After a long pause, where she was observing various knick-knacks that were strategically placed around the office, asked Alexandra.

"With his relatives, being a lazy slob that he is," the information came from the Potions Professor.

"Well, then it should be no problem for you to go and retrieve him, would it professor?" Alexandra used the same patronizing and condescending tone, much to the amusement of the werewolf.

"Why you…" Severus started to rant on his erstwhile student. Perhaps she forgot who he was?

"Severus!" Albus did not wish to aggravate his young guest; she was still the wild card, concerning the war, not training. "Could you go and retrieve Mr. Potter, please?" It wasn't question, but a veiled demand, and all present new it.

"I shall be right back, sir." And with that, and flair of his robes, he disappeared through the office door muttering about young upstarts and old goats.

"How about we discuss the terms, Albus?"

"Terms?" The surprised question was out of his mouth sooner, than Lucius could stop it. When she looked his way with amusement dancing in her eyes, he felt the embarrassment acutely. Lucius prided himself on self-control and anticipation of the different problems that may arise throughout any conversation. But now it seemed, as if all his grooming and practice flew out of the window. He never even realized, that she, unlike Severus and himself, has nothing to atone for, and that she does not have to listen to Albus' orders. Plus the political power she wields makes them all look as a children playing at the politics.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to start teaching Mr. Potter and then have the headmaster censure me, would I? But that is not what I was talking about, what are the benefits for me if I do train him, Albus?"

"I-I….I…What would you want?" this was answered with a slight laugh from Miss Potter.

"This is not about what I want, because I can assure you, I do not want to even be here, but what _you_ are willing to give."

"Access to the school library?" but it was met with incredulous looks from everybody around.

"I don't know. You care neither for the war, nor politics. I'm not even talking about teaching in the school, if your reluctance to teaching just one pupil is anything to go by… State your price."

"It was not my reluctance to teach someone, even though I am not ecstatic about that part either, but rather my reluctance to acquaint myself with young Harry Potter. For the next part of your assertion, if I have to be stuck in Britain, I think I should take at the very least some notice of the war, so do update me regularly of the ongoing situation. And please do remember I want full disclosure all the time, not your usual half-truths. Also do not burden yourself with my political standing; I was fully trained to take care of my responsibilities." It seemed she said the right thing, because Dumbledore stopped right away planning how to use her leverage for his own profit, which he was not happy about.

"But I do have a proposition for you, Albus," she started, and suddenly Albus knew that he just made another mistake with potential to have disastrous consequences.

"Whatever you say, Alexandra," stated Albus with again resigned air.

"I want three favours."

At this Albus breathed out sight of relief, if she needed favours, she must find herself in difficult situation, which could be of possible use to him.

"And those are?"

"I am not yet certain, but please, rest assured I will come to you if I encounter any situation where your input could be of possible assistance. Anytime, anyplace. Do you agree?"

"What else could I do? We both know that I need your help, and we both know that the stubbornness that runs in the Montmorency blood is doubled in you. So, yes, I accede to your conditions. If I may, where are you planning of taking him?"

"What?!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "She plans to take poor Harry away, and you are allowing it?! You cannot be serious, Albus."

"Molly, please, calm down. We discussed it already."

"Mrs. Weasley, isn't it?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop by few degrees as Alexandra addressed her for the first time, and it was obvious, that this kind of her attention was not something to be desired. "Let me give you a free advice. Do not start something you have not the means for finishing. Because should you interrupt my conversation, any conversation that I participate in, one more time, the consequences will not be pleasurable. I can promise you that." With that said, she turned back to Albus.

"I am thinking of the villa in Tuscany, Italian laws are much more lenient when it comes to underage magic and also the more... questionable magical areas. But if you think that you can get Mr. Potter a waiver that would allow him to use magic this summer..."

"No, no. Please, go right ahead. Italy sounds wonderful, and Mr. Potter never travelled abroad before, so I am sure he would find it...fascinating." Dumbledore stated with his usual benign smile.

Professor McGonagall and Alastor Moody were just amused throughout the whole meeting, Albus finally found someone, who is not afraid to oppose him and can win a fight or an argument with him. The coming year should be interesting indeed.

"Now if that is all you wanted me for, Albus, let us discuss…"


	2. Chapter 2

**29****th** **of August 1995**

"Dear friends, we gathered here today," started headmaster when someone interrupted him with murmuring:

"...to join this man and this woman in a holy institution of marriage..." Most of the gathered order laughed at the incredulously ridiculous statement. Those who did not, did so just because they had problem with the source of the comment – professor Snape and Mrs. Weasley, or because they just did not understand the humour – Mrs. Weasley. Even Mr. Malfoy, spy in the Death Eater fraction, let out a slight chuckle.

"You just can't help yourself, can you Black?" snarled Potion Master.

"Well what about you, Snivellus? Can you be anymore doomish and gloomish?" followed the immediate reply of Sirius Black.

"You are the one to talk. I always thought that the house reflects the character of the owner. It need not be said, I find it lacking." Severus did not let himself be bested in the quip department.

"Yes, thank you for your input, gentlemen, very enlightening. As I was saying, we are here today to discuss any new occurrences and attacks in Britain. As Minister still refuses to accept, that Voldemort," winces form majority of the gathered, "has risen again, I urge you to be covert still, while you search for new members and/or information. Does anybody here have anything new to report?" He asked as an afterthought and looked at the members of the Order of the Phoenix, who were set around the small dreary kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

As stated before Grimmauld Place Number Twelve is the house of one Sirius Black, escapee from Azkaban prison, one of the most secure prisons around the globe, that nobody before him managed to escape from. The house also served as Headquarters for the aforementioned Order of the Phoenix, group established by Albus Dumbledore during the first war to fight against Death Eaters and to protect innocent civilians.

Also as stated above, the house was quite dreary, the doom and gloom image fitted it very well. As most ancient houses, this one too, managed to absorb magic and intentions of its occupants throughout the ages. As Black were traditionally dark family, it was understandable that the house rebelled against the presence of so many light witches and wizards, and protected its secrets so much more diligently.

That was the main reason, that no matter how hard they had tried, they just could not clean it up or even remove majority of the dark artefacts. Of course, the house elf Kreacher, who was still loyal to the long deceased Mrs. Black, was not any help as he was constantly replacing removed objects on their correct places. It wasn't his fault, house elves are very loyal creatures, and their loyalty is given to that master, who shows them most kindness, which was sadly not the case of Sirius Black.

Sirius even though tolerant and kind to most of less fortunate than him, could not stand reminders of his past, and Kreacher along with the House and Severus Snape were those unfortunate reminders, that just did not allow him to show any regard to them.

"No? Nobody? Very well, then. I would like to announce that young Mr. Potter, did not spent his summer with his relatives, but was instead receiving training he requires from one of the most qualified, if not the most qualified, humans , if not beings, that are out there. And it is my honour to say that, they are originally from Britain. So without further ado, please let me share with you the identity of..." but again he was interrupted; however this time from no one present in the room, but because of the ruckus outside.

"I hate you! I absolutely loath you! I'm not a child! I can take care of myself!" The voice of the young boy-hero carried throughout the house.

"Hate, Mr. Potter?" The answer was quiet, almost whispered, but it resonated just like a scream would for the unspoken threat it carried. "What do you know about hate? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You think you can take care of yourself, but every time I asked you to prove it, you were not able to stand a minute against me in duel, and it was full of standardized rules, not the real one, where your enemy would kill you without any exertion... But you are right; I am immensely pleased that our little arrangement came to an end. One more day spent with such a child, and Voldemort would have nothing to do, because I would just kill you myself."

Mrs. Weasley wanted to come to his defence, wanted to silence the upstart that talked that way to her 'adopted' son, but she remembered the words spoken two months ago. '_Should you interrupt my conversation, any conversation that I participate in, one more time, the consequences will not be pleasurable. I can promise you that.' _

Many others wanted to do the same, for instance Arthur Weasley – husband of Mrs. Weasley, Fleur Delacour – one of the Champions of the Triwizard Tournament, which took place in Hogwarts previous year, and girlfriend of William 'Bill' Weasley, or even reporter for _Daily Prophet_ Hestia Jones, but they all recognized that had they done so, they would turn her attention on themselves and it was not something either of them wanted in her current state.

Some of the onlookers were rendered motionless, when they realized just who was supposed to train their Harry. Charley Weasley and Nymphandora Tonks were stunned because their idol throughout their whole Hogwarts careers had been standing in front of them, dressing down the Boy-Who-Lived.

It must be mentioned that Alexandra, even though few years older than them, was a role model for the whole school. She was the star student, excellent Quidditch chaser and _the _matchless partier. It was as if she lived by the motto '_Study hard, but play even harder'_ back then. Through and through she was the most popular student then, boys wanted to date her and girls wanted to be her friends.

Bill Weasley was flabbergasted, because before him stood the girl he once gave his heart to. They were in the same year at school, had a friendly competition going in classes – she always managed to win or at least to tie with him, and outside of it, she was his, as the muggle saying goes, 'high-school sweetheart'. However he knew, that as he was, he could never be worthy of her, so he left to prove to her and himself he can be her equal. As the years passed, he heard many accounts of her, but never from her and thought that she had simply moved on.

The last person who was absolutely staggered was owner of the house, Sirius Black. He could not believe that, the most beautiful woman he had ever lay eyes on, was the same little girl with pig tails he used to play with, have false tea parties and give piggyback rides to, the daughter of the older brother of his best friend James Potter. She was stunning, mind-stopping, breath-taking. Then he shook his head, and scolded himself for such thoughts, but once a womaniser, always a womaniser.

"You are reckless, idiotic, without any real talent or ability. You think that because you do not fail in school, you are any good? Your professors pity you; that is the real reason why you pass classes_. The Triwizard Tournament_? A farce. Without Junior's help you would have died in the first task or at the very least been out of the commission for the rest of your life."

With her words Harry looked more and more ashamed. And perhaps he would stop her, but she was not to be interrupted. Nobody of the present has seen Harry look so before, not his professors, nor his friends. He was drowning in shame and embarrassment, with barely held back tears.

"You want the truth? Full disclosure? From what I observed of you during past two and half months, you are nothing. Nobody. Mediocre student, who could not be bothered to open a textbook, I am not even talking about a library books and independent study to get caught up with your peers, that come from the wizarding families," they had gathered quite the audience –full Order, the Weasley children and Hermione- but neither one paid them any heed. "From what I have seen, I became afraid. Afraid for the wizarding world, because if you are their saviour, they better pack up their things quickly and leave the country as soon as possible, because you, Mr. Potter, will be only their downfall."

His friends, Ginny and Hermione, because the twins and Ron were too busy gaping at her, wanted to interrupt her, too. After all she was tearing, metaphorically speaking of course, into their friend, their hero, their saviour. But even they could see the magic crackling on her skin, more and more with each word passing her lips.

"You hate me? You are not the only one, so take your place in a long queue. But hear me out first; I knew your parents, they were my aunt and uncle after all, and let me tell you, had they seen you now, they would cry from the embarrassment. Both of them had been exceptionally talented in their own fields, you can barely manage in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it is reportedly your best subject. So good riddance, Mr. Potter. I hope to never have to rely on you, because you are the most unreliable, irresponsible person I have ever seen, and trust me when I say, I have seen more than my share of slobs."

With those words she took a deep breath to calm the magical aura she excluded, turned on her heel and faced their audience.

"You...zat eez you, who... _c'est vous que,"_ started the heavily accented voice of the French quarter veela.

"I what, Miss Delacour? Please be so kind to elaborate." With boredom accentuating her whole being, stated Alexandra.

"You took my deer George from mee... I 'ate you, _Vous avez pris mon George. Je vous déteste,_" accused angry veela.

"You mean Mr. Pelletier? I can assure you; I had nothing to do with him. He was but a child back when I met him. And as I already stated today, you are not the only one, who hates me, so please, kindly get in line."

"But 'ee left mee becauz of you. _Mais, il m'a quitté pour vous_," The girl was close to tears. "Ee told mee, zat I am not beautiful enouf. _Il m'est dit que je ne suis pas assez belle_."

"But that is not my fault, Miss Delacour. You cannot fault me for my appearances anymore than many can fault you for yours." And with that stated, she addressed the headmaster.

"Albus, I have done all I could think of. But I must admit, with deep regret, that I could not manage to teach him anything substantial, which I take as my personal failing. Alastor, it is good to see you again. Professor McGonagall, always a pleasure, now if you'll excuse me..." Suddenly somebody interrupted her.

"Lexie, wait. Don't leave." The plea was evident in speaker's voice.

"William, it has been a long time," said Alexandra as she identified the source.

"Bill, what are you doing, talking to her? Have you lost your mind?" interrupted Mrs. Weasley, but quickly quieted down after Alexandra shot her an annoyed glance.

"It has, will you let me explain?"

"There is nothing to explain; to me all was perfectly clear seven years ago."

"Lexie, please. You don't understand..."

"Don't understand what, William? That you left me in the middle of a night? Without goodbye? Without any explanation? Trust me, the message was received."

"Bill? What iz going on?" asked his clearly confused girlfriend, but he had his all attention focused on the girl from his past.

"It wasn't like that, Lex." He started to explain, but as if suddenly aware of their audience, he said instead. "Look, can we talk for a moment in private?"

"I do not see what difference it would make, William. Do not drag our history out. We were just children, we have changed."

"Please, just give me a minute. Just a minute." And with that he motioned to the now empty kitchen. With a sight she followed, perhaps nothing would change, but he deserved at least that much. After all, she loved him once. With that they left the rest of the Order standing in the hall and parlour.

"Well, we are alone now. What do you want, William?" asked Alexandra as she set in the small chair at the table. She was looking strangely out of place, the dark and dreary kitchen and her all majestic looking.

"I want to explain why I left." He saw she was about to interrupt him, so he rushed on. "It wasn't because I didn't love you, I did, I still do, I love you more than anything, but because I wasn't worthy of you. And I left to prove to myself and to you and everybody else that I do deserve you. And maybe it is just a wishful thinking, and you really are too good for me, but I can't let you go. I don't know how. I have a girlfriend, that's true, but I always thought that we would find way to be together. And because of that, I didn't have serious relationship since you. I was just passing time, waiting for us to be together again. Just please, say it is not too late. That I didn't destroy everything with my stupid actions. That you still love me." He ended with the same begging tone as he started; it never left, never wavered.

"I would like to say that, I truly would. But you left, William. You left me without a word. I had had to get over you. We changed and we are just not suited to be together anymore. Had we stayed together then, we could have been possibly happy together, but we didn't. You have a girl that loves you. Do not destroy your second chance at happiness on couldas-wouldas-shouldas and by second guessing yourself, because we could have been, but we are not. Let me go, William. And especially let yourself go."

She finished her speech with a sad smile, pated his hand that somehow found its way to cover hers, stood up and left the kitchen without looking back. Had she seen the shattered expression on his face, everything could have been different, but she had not.

Everybody was at the same place they left them, waiting with curious faces and perhaps speculating about the topic and mainly conclusion of their conversation. She did not pay them any mind. As she was leaving someone in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

"Siri?" It was the man she swore she would marry as six years old girl. She loved him then, and he never failed to brighten her day. But the war ended and he disappeared along with her parents, aunt and uncle. As she grew older, she, of course, found out what happened and few times even tired to reason with her uncle to do something, but it was half-hearted effort. She felt betrayed.

"Sasha, how do you do?" replied with a smile Sirius.

"I-I...How..." It was the first time in ages that someone managed to render Alexandra speechless. "I do not understand; how are you...?" She did not know how to finish her sentence. Free? Here? Out of the prison? Did it matter?

"Just say it, Sasha. I fucked up, did I not? But no, I am not free, just an escapee."

"Why are you not free? You did nothing wrong or at least your actions weren't worse than actions of others."And it was true. After all, even Lucius Malfoy managed to be free of all charges.

"Not in the eyes of public. To them I am betrayer of the Potters and murderer of the thirteen."

"It was a time of war, casualties happened. And as far as I am aware, there is no law that prevents you to tell a secret of _Fidelius_."

"Assisted murder?" commented Severus.

"Plausible deniability? Ignorance? I stand by my previous statement casualties happen in the times of war."

"My parents weren't casualties!" suddenly shouted Harry. However nobody, but Mrs. Weasley paid him any mind.

"Let me share a piece of wisdom with you Mr. Potter, nobody is just a casualty to family, but in the grand scheme of things, they are nothing but," retorted Alexandra.

"I didn't do it." whispered Sirius.

"What? Then who?" Her confusion was apparent for all to see.

"Peter," he whispered, as if ashamed of admitting it aloud.

"I'll be back." And with those words she disappeared from the spot in the hallway, leaving a staggered Order and shocked Dumbledore. After all someone just apparated from a place he personally warded against apparition.

As Bill Weasley finally joined the rest in the parlour, everybody saw his ashen complexion; Fleur in particular took note of it, but did not comment. After all, if he did not leave her for Alexandra, all was good. She would not repeat the same mistake twice, there really was no competition.


End file.
